Mass Intermission: The Bridge between 2 and 3
by bluekrishna
Summary: This is my bridging arc between Mass Symphony 2 and Mass Symphony 3. All Garrus POV. Again, liberties were taken, but it is still true to the storyline...well mostly. No sexytimes, rated M for language. Bioware owns all.
1. Chapter 1

Mass Intermission: The bridge between 2 and 3

"What the hell happened to your face?!" Solana launched herself at him, her mandibles pulled tight against her face in angry concern. Garrus hugged her tightly, despite her protests.

"I missed you, too, Sol." Garrus smiled down at the petite female, her grey eyes flashing in a way that long experience told him that a shitstorm was about to fly his way. She pushed away from him with a hiss.

"I'm serious, what the hell happened?" She picked up his duffle and slung it over her shoulder while he picked up his two rifle cases. She flicked her head in the direction of one of the aircars parked on the curb.

"There was this airship and a, um, rocket incident, no big deal." He laughed at her incredulity, and she threw his duffle at him. His cases hit the floor with a clang and he shot her a look of consternation before dropping his duffle in the car. He inspected the cases and finding no damage, tossed them in the back and slid with a sigh into a seat, shooting his sister a look of consternation, "Spirits, Sol, be careful, my guns are in there."

"You think I can't tell that you nearly died from that 'rocket incident'? Oh, dad is gonna kill you." She pulled out into traffic violently and Garrus grimaced, heart racing as they nearly collided with another vehicle. Did he finally find a worse driver than Shepard? He sincerely hoped not, it would put a serious crimp in his plans if he died on the way home from the spaceport.

When they settled into a more sedate pace, Garrus breathed a sigh of relief then turned to her, "Dad's going to kill me for nearly dying? That seems...excessive. And illogical."

She flashed him a wicked smile, "Maybe you'll just wish you were dead."

"Military life has made you savage, where's the girl who used to hide my guns so I wouldn't pretend to shoot her toys?" He cajoled her with a smirk. She gave him a sidelong stare in warning and he relented, holding his hands up in surrender.

She sighed, the anger in her eyes fading to resignation, "Well, now I know why you never used the vid link. Did this happen while you were with Shepard? Oh, why am I even asking. Of course, it did."

Garrus felt a touch of irritation at her assumption, which while technically true, Shepard had indeed been present, she was not in any way responsible. He gestured at his scars, voice low and tight with anger, "_This_ was not because of anything Shepard did. I'll have you know, Shepard's not in the habit of killing her people."

Solana snorted, dubiously, "Mom will be glad to see you."

Garrus winced, guiltily. He patted his carryall until he found a crinkled pack of cigarettes he'd snagged from Massani's stash with the man's blessing. The turian thought the mercenary was more amused than it was strictly called for that Garrus had picked up this little habit. He lit one and sucked in the first drag and sighed, letting it soothe his jangling nerves. Solana was staring at him like he'd grown a second head, he rumbled, "What?"

"I guess...nothing? Just...nothing." She peered at him curiously out of the corner of her eye, "Not my lungs. Wondering how dad'll feel about you picking up bad human habits, is all."

"I can't live my life afraid of whether or not he'll approve of my decisions. I've tried to do right, Sol, I have." He leaned back and closed his eyes. There was very little smoke, he'd grabbed low emission ones on purpose. "I might not have always succeeded, but I tried. Now, I'm home and all I can think of is how in hell am I supposed to do this thing I have to do. I need dad's help, but I won't grovel at his feet."

There was a flicker of respect that crossed over her face and she nodded grimly, "That's...a change. No, don't frown at me, I mean that in a good way. I always thought you were trying too hard to be him, then trying too hard not to be him to see that he just wanted you to have security, stability, whatever you do. I don't think he even really cared about the whole Spectre thing as much as the idea of you being sent to far off places where bad people would be trying to shoot you in the face with a rocket."

She laughed at his expression, which he knew must be one of shock, because that was what he was feeling. How time changes the way one sees the world. He felt a pang of remorse at the thought of all the misunderstandings that must have occurred on both sides of their conflict. All the time lost. Well, that was going to change, whether or not his father decided to help him, he would make that change. He laughed at himself, saying softly, "Security and stability...not really my thing, but I'll do my damnedest to make sure everyone gets a chance to have it."

"That didn't sound dire at all." Her sarcastic comment was accompanied by a grin, "Well, I got your back, brother of mine."

"I appreciate that, Sol, I really do. I can't even begin to tell you how good it is to see you." He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. She smiled at him warmly, pulling the car into the garage of their family's estate. He stepped out into the sunlight, letting it warm his face, breathed in a lung full of sweet Palaven air. He felt like giving a shout of joy, but held his silence. A mech stood by to take his bag and rifle cases.

He hadn't been home in going on six years now. The garden was overgrown with moss, something that would have never happened if his mother was still well. He felt an overwhelming urge to see her come over him and he hurried into the house. Garrus' father was nowhere in sight, so he must be off the estate at the moment. He thanked the spirits for their tender mercies. Solana trailed after him quietly, just watching him as he looked around.

Not much had changed, some hangings were different and they'd repainted the interior from blue to a creamy sort of white. He turned a questioning look at Solana, who said softly in the quiet entryway, "She's in the guest apartments, they moved her out of the master bedroom, said there were too many contagions there. Dad sleeps in a chair in there with her, I don't think he's even gone in the old rooms since then."

He walked upstairs, unhappy that this house that had once held so much life now felt like a mausoleum, "Do you stay here, too?"

She looked at him in surprise, "Of course not. I bunk in the barracks, with my platoon."

The way she said '_my_ platoon' raised a flag in his mind, "You've gone career, haven't you."

She snapped a salute, "Lieutenant Solana Vakarian, at your service."

Garrus smiled at her, proud of her accomplishment. "Sol, that's outstanding. Rifle platoon?"

"Is there any other kind worth having? The flyboys can keep their shiny toys, I got 44 good men and women under my command, can stomp anything they throw at us." Her glee was contagious and he laughed with her.

They paused outside the door to the guest rooms and Garrus took a deep breath and stepped in, the door sliding open soundlessly. The beeping of the machines that regulated his mother's circulatory and respiratory systems seemed loud in this tiny space, made smaller by the amount of equipment it took to keep her alive. She lay on her side, facing away from them. The nurses looked up from their charts to wave them in.

Sol must have alerted them to his arrival, they didn't seem startled to see a strange male walk in on their charge. He nodded courteously at them and they left the room, letting the three of them have their privacy. Sol walked up to her bedside and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Mom, mom, look who's here."

The ill woman turned over slowly, eyes wincing in pain at the movement. He looked lovingly down at her, not really aware that he'd crossed the distance from the door to the bed in a single bound. Her expression grew joyful as she looked up at him, her hands reaching out weakly. He took them in his and leaned down to press his forehead to hers, rumbling deep in his throat. His heart gave a painful little twist as he took in how dull her plates were, how clouded her once piercing grey eyes were, the disease had wasted her away. She opened her mouth and, in a sound that was little more than a breath, whispered, "Garrus..."

He knelt at her bedside,"Mom, I'm home."

Her mandibles fluttered and she traced her hand over the scars on his face, but there was no consternation in her gaze as she looked over him, just relief to see him after all this time. Solana perched on the edge of the bed and their mother turned a grateful smile on her, which she returned with a squeeze of her hand on her arm. Garrus watched his mother's hands draw symbols in the air, some kind of sign language, and Solana nodded. At his quizzical look, she explained, "She wants some water. I'll be right back."

His sister left them, the door sliding shut behind her. Garrus couldn't keep his eyes off his mother, who was smiling at him softly. She whispered, "Your father will be so happy. Have you been well?"

He couldn't help but notice how she winced in pain as she spoke, "Mom, don't speak if it hurts. I'll have Sol teach me that sign lan-"

Her brows drew together in irritation, "I'll do as I please and it pleases me to no end to speak with my son, who I haven't seen for six years."

With chagrin, he ceased his protests, guilty thoughts harangued him and he turned from her to consider the window. There was a view of the garden from here, he wondered how she felt about how overgrown it had gotten. But then it had been her who maintained it, cultivated its flowerbeds and the tiny stream that ran through the center of it. A tap on his arm and he swung his gaze back to her. She smiled, "So, my little cloud gazer, have you been well?"

"I've been...good. No, better than good, great. I...served on a human ship for a time, same one as before, well almost the same. Same commander anyway. There were missions, I saw so many wonders, not all of them pleasant. Most of that's classified..." He watched her listen to him with a happy smile on her face and brought her hand to his cheek, "I was part of great things, mom, great and terrible things and I am...awed by it."

"You are changed, not in a bad way I think. You feel-" She closed her eyes and rested both hands on his shoulders and he swore he felt the air become charged, somehow, with some unknowable energy. Eerily familiar. It faded quickly and she continued, "complete, whole, and bereft as well."

Her sharp gaze dropped to his wrist and his mouth went dry, "That was...what was that?"

She smiled like it was a secret, while reaching for his hand, "Who is she?"

Her keen insight was clearly undamaged by her illness, he felt a lump in his throat, a sudden longing for a certain human female rising up from the depths of his soul. Wordlessly, he pulled off his glove and showed his mother the wristlet made of his mate's brilliant red hair. He touched it for comfort, as he had so many times now. It had only been a week and he missed her terribly.

Trust his mother to see through him so completely. The turian woman ran a finger over the bright strands, tightly braided into a cord, "A human? Interesting. If you love her, then I love her. When I...pass beyond the veil, take my wristlet to her, this bondmate of yours."

"We...haven't exactly made it official. In fact, I haven't even asked her." He ducked his head in shame, "She doesn't know what I did with her token."

His mother hissed in consternation, her mandibles flaring, "You give your heart away without even knowing if you'll have hers? Foolish male. I don't want to look upon you from the afterlife and see you broken because you can't give your heart to anyone else."

He sighed, "It was always hers, even if she doesn't want it. Nothing will ever change that."

"Does she seem to return your affection?" She searched his face and seemed satisfied by whatever answer she found there, nodding abruptly.

"You already know her, well a part of her. She wrote that song." There was surprise on her face as she gazed upon him and he smiled gently down at her. "She's like fire, creation and destruction. She carries truths around like a torch and once realized, nothing is ever the same. And she does miracles, mom, not the cheap kind that prophets employ to entertain and beguile the masses, but painful, beautiful ones. And at the same time, she's so achingly mortal. Her soul is everyone's soul."

The awe in his voice brought out a dry chuckle from the dying woman in the bed, "She must be a wonder to capture your imagination so fully. You always were a dreamer, Garrus. It is good that you dream so...ambitiously."

"A shame she is not turian. What brilliant and brave children you would have had." She struggled to sit up and Garrus helped her, fluffing the pillows behind her so she might have some relief, "Now, call your sister back in from the hallway. I am thirsty and I'm regretting telling her to wait out there with my drink."

He laughed as he did her bidding, poking his head out to call Solana's name.

* * *

His father found him in the garden, where he was industriously yanking out the moss that had taken over the paths and beds. Garrus turned when he heard the gravel crunch behind him and stood awkwardly. The two men watched each other solemnly, each waiting for the other to say something first. Garrus found himself fighting down a welling bitterness, despite his earlier resolution it was harder to forget the past than it seemed. By the look in his father's eye, the man was also struggling with his feelings. Finally, Garrus stepped forward and embraced his father, "Dad..."

When he stepped back, there was a torrent of emotion in his father's eyes, but the shoulders remained unbowed, "Garrus, it's good to see you. Will you stay?"

"Well, I don't want to be an inconvenience. I can find a place to stay out in the city-"

"No." The word rushed out of his father's mouth and the man seemed embarrassed at the force of it, continuing in a voice that was subdued, "No, wouldn't dream of it, son. You're always welcome here. That's never changed."

Garrus swallowed the lump in his throat, "Thanks, dad. I'll stay."

There was a sigh of relief from the older turian, who motioned for Garrus to walk with him to the house. The men strolled in silence, with his father occasionally glancing at his scarred profile out of the corner of his eye. Garrus waited for the comment, which, when it finally arrived, was shockingly absent of accusation or recrimination, "I see you've been having adventures."

He grinned ruefully, touching his face, "Yeah, funny how they never tell you in the recruitment office that you might catch a rocket with your face."

"It's in the fine print." Came the dry reply. It startled a laugh out of the younger man and a chuckle rolled out of the older one's throat.

Garrus had forgotten that his father used to laugh, oh how he laughed, the sound of it now pulled at him in a sweetly sad kind of way. He was sure that his father found little occasion to laugh any more. "I'll, uh, be sure to watch for that next time."

"Nice armor." His father eyed the shiny grey hardsuit, gaze falling on his insignia, "What does that mean?"

"That was my rank on the Normandy. Executive Officer." He could tell that his father was surprised at the revelation that his son was second-in-command on an Alliance frigate. There was respect there, too, at which Garrus felt a flush of pride in his accomplishments.

"I'd heard the Normandy was back under Alliance command and her commander in custody for war crimes."

His father's intel was as good as ever, which gave Garrus hope that this would actually work, "It's...complicated. The Alliance have to hold Shepard in custody so the batarians don't start a war. I can vouch for her actions, she did everything in her power to save those colonists, hell, to save all of us."

His father grunted, not doubting him which was a relief. They entered the house and went into the kitchen, where a luncheon was set up for the two of them. It was good to eat the food he'd grown up with again and he dug in with gusto, much to the amusement of his father. "Didn't they feed you on that ship of yours?"

"Human ship, they don't exactly have any idea what dextro foods taste good and what doesn't, so yeah, I mostly ate nutrient paste. I feel really bad for Tali, she had to sterilize the paste before she could eat it, told me that if it once had any flavor, bombarding it with sterilizers took care of that. She said it was like chewing chunky stagnant water."

His father made a choking sound, "Quarians always seem to get the short end of the stick, don't they. So, tell me the real reason you're here."

Garrus froze with food halfway to his mouth, then set it down and pushed his plate away and turned to regard the older man closely. There wasn't a single hint on his father's face that he felt resentful or angry, so Garrus took a deep breath, "I had hoped to not ask you for this, but I've turned all of my options over and over and this is the best one, the one that gives us the best chance."

"The chance for what?" There was trepidation in the man's stare. Garrus surmised that there must already be unsettling rumblings somewhere out there, in the part of the galaxy that the turian's called home.

He closed his eyes and stated softly but firmly, conviction in every line of his face, "Survival."

His father laid both hands on the table, and Garrus opened his eyes to see them tremble slightly, "Start at the beginning."

And so he did, it was well into the night before he finished. His father stayed silent through most of it, interjecting a question to clarify certain points at times, but mostly just silent, taking it all in like a sponge. Garrus could see the wheels turning behind those icy blue eyes, so like his own, could almost hear the pieces fall into place. His dad was a cop, a great one and Garrus knew that that didn't just stop because of retirement. There was a lengthy pause after he'd said his piece and they both stared into their glasses of bourbon, deep in thought.

His father stood, "I have to move on this. Immediately, if we're to have a shot. Still going to take time, though. You remember how the system works. I can't make the paperwork move along faster no matter how many favors I call in."

Garrus barked a laugh, "I remember. It'd be a shame to face extinction because the appropriate forms weren't collated or notarized."

They laughed together, loudly and if Garrus heard maybe the tiniest hint of desperation in there, he let it pass unexamined. His father embraced him warmly and Garrus returned it with fervor, "Spirits, son, it is good to have you home."

"Same here, dad, same here. And thanks...you know, for believing me."

"Of course I believe you, Garrus. I didn't raise a barefaced liar." With a smile, his father left the room, presumably to make some calls. Garrus made his way to his room, the room he'd grown up in, took off his armor and lay on that ancient bed, staring at that familiar ceiling and wondered again at how everything seemed to come full circle and whether that had some kind of significance in the greater scheme of things. Cycles seemed to haunt all of them, made events inevitable. But he knew, if anyone could break the Reaper cycle, Shepard could, she didn't know when to quit. It wasn't something it was possible for her to do.

He calculated how long it would take to get this ball rolling and figured it would be a few days at the earliest before anything could be organized. Long enough for him to get the garden in order, so his mother would have something nice to look at from her window, instead of a reminder of how her work had been allowed to fall into disrepair in the wake of the onset of her illness. He could do that for her, at least.

His thoughts were drawn inexorably back to Shepard, as they always seemed to do. He ached to have her here with him, to meet his family, to see his ancestral home. He fingered the wristlet as he thought of her. Her comforting presence in the bed next to him, her soft breaths as she inhaled and exhaled in her sleep and the low drumming of her heart in his ears. He called out to her silently through the vast space between them and fancied he felt the faintest echo and it soothed his nerves, made him relax enough that he felt drowsiness wash over him at last and he closed his eyes, and dreamt of fire sliding across his palms.


	2. Chapter 2

He sat in the shade, looking at the fruits of his labor with satisfaction. The garden was restored, he'd set up the flowerbeds as best as he could remember, made a few changes of his own as well, like the wooden bridge that spanned the stream, its pleasing arch a perfect counterpoint to the low shrubbery around it. It was more for aesthetics than anything. The stream could be crossed with a small leap, he was sure his ailing mother could do it if she wanted.

He had gone into the city a few times to get supplies for this project, even sending away for some exotic Earth plants, which he planted in the soil near his mother's window. Rose and jasmine, he hoped that the low level radiation wouldn't kill them. Was assured by the merchant that it shouldn't. He watched them take to the soil with joy, it seemed in a few weeks he'd see them bloom, and he hoped they filled the air with _her_ scent. Briefly he wondered if he could get earth grasses to grow here, wondered if they'd survive the moss that crept over everything. He'd heard some varieties were aggressive. Might be a bad idea to introduce another tenacious form of plantlife to this ecosystem so he let it be.

His mother had expressed her joy at his endeavor and that was really all the motivation he needed to keep it up, so day after day he made sure to spend at least an hour here, tending it lovingly. His father had been nonplussed at the transformation, but grateful for Garrus' consideration for doing it.

There had already been a few meetings, as the various leaders investigated his claims of imminent invasion. So far the signs were good, more and more officials showed up to ask questions about Reaper forces and deployment strategies and even ventured to ask his opinion on countermeasures if the need arose. There was more and more of this latter and he was pleased to receive them in the garden, which they expressed their wonder at. It was gratifying to know that his words didn't fall on deaf ears. There were opponents to his assertion, mostly hidebound minds stuck in the past, unwilling to believe that so great a threat to the Heirarchy existed. These were starting to fade as more and more evidence was gathered that supported his story.

The moss was soft beneath him and he leaned against a tree, its silver leaves glinting in the sunlight. He reached over to where he'd placed a long wooden tube on the ground and picked it up. It was about 4 feet long, with holes in its length at intervals. When he'd first bought it, this coriolinus as his people called it, Shepard called it a 'flute', he'd fumbled around with how to hold it right, but it didn't take him long to figure it out. The hard part was blowing across the mouthpiece just right to get the air to vibrate along its hollow body.

He was a little surprised at the quickness he'd picked it up, but then it was hardly anything like the complicated earth instruments he'd seen when he took Shepard to Julliard to see an orchestra play her music. He delighted in the variety of sounds it could make as he moved his fingers over the holes. Tried to work out the songs that he'd heard over the course of being in Shepard's company, with some success. At the moment, he just let his fingers wander over the instrument as he played it, finding pleasing strings of notes that filled the air of the garden, in harmony with the peace he felt at that moment.

He thought with amusement at the memory of the shopkeeper's surprise when he'd asked for sheet music. Apparently there wasn't a turian equivalent. Musicians were trained by ear, certain themes didn't change at all, and only some were allowed to be embellished on. Even the love songs were formulaic. New music wasn't so much new as recombinations of accepted pieces, not to say there weren't innovators among his people but they all fell under the sway of tradition. And tradition dictated what was taught and what wasn't.

He felt some anger then that his race was so belligerently stuck on form that they ritualized convention. It was the path to stagnation and could doom their people even if the Reapers had never reared their genocidal heads. Plans fluttered at the back of his mind furtively, pushed to the wayside by his more immediate concerns. Garrus was just thinking about first stage evacuations when a voice burst his reverie, "That's nice. What is it?"

Guiltily, he made sure his wristlet was hidden by his long sleeve and turned to his father, who plopped down into the shade next to him, "Oh just fooling around. How'd the meeting with the Primarch go?"

The elder Vakarian drew his knees up and rested his elbows on them, basking in the mild heat of the day, sun dappling across his face, "You have your taskforce. They're being recalled from the colonies right now. Take a week to muster."

Garrus hummed in approval, thinking that he'd finally be able to get started. "That's good news. And the additional security forces for our outposts?"

"That and more. They're installing AA guns on every settled world from here to the rim. Every colony has a working militia, they're being outfitted as we speak." His father gestured to the coriolinus, Garrus handed it over wordlessly. Watched the older man's strong fingers run along its length, "A corio, I haven't seen one of these since I was a boy. Well, outside of state functions anyway."

Amazed, Garrus watched his father bring it up to his shoulder and blast a trill, fingers moving deftly, "I didn't know you played."

"It was an exercise in discipline, my father said. He was right, of course. But the only thing I hated more than practicing playing one of these was the endless marching drills. Those hills over there," He pointed with the corio, "I must have worn a path a foot deep marching back and forth, playing one of these damnable things while he kept time on a drum."

_Wow, and I thought my childhood was rough._ Garrus looked at the man out of the corner of his eye, "Grandpa was killed in action, wasn't he?"

"The glorious ninth brigade, killed to a man during the last colonial uprising. The colonists had hired mercenary armies to supplement their numbers. I'm told it was quite a bloodbath and the Heirarchy decided to bombard the planet from space after their ground forces were wiped out. There were no survivors at all." His father sighed deeply, "I was 14, got my father's medal from the Primarch himself along with a very nice letter of consolation. I said all the right things, did all the right things, like a dutiful son, but mostly I was so angry at him, for leaving us, for being so stubbornly military."

This insight into his father's life rocked him and Garrus ran a hand over his fringe in shock, unable to think of a single thing to say. Vakarian the older patted his son's shoulder with a smile, no bitterness in his eyes at all, "That was a long time ago, son. And in my...ardor to not make the same mistakes he did, I made a few new ones, didn't I?"

"Dad...I did some stupid stuff, too. No one made me do that but me." Garrus shook his head, denying the guilt he saw in his father's face. He took a deep breath, "I never meant to disappoint you, never wanted to hurt you or mom."

"You never disappointed me. Not once did you behave less than honorably. I even respected your decision to go for Spectre training, both times, though I hated to think that it might change you for the worst. Then you disappeared and I felt so much guilt, afraid you'd never know how I really felt, afraid you'd die out there somewhere. I should never have let my father's ghost and my own fear goad me into yelling at you about it, drive you away." His father played a few notes thoughtfully and Garrus saw how practiced the movements were, precisely drawing out military airs from the instrument, then he paused, "I should have trusted you then to know your own way. I am proud to see you now, Garrus. You are a worthy man and will be a good commander of men."

Pride caused his throat to close and his heart to thump and he pulled his father into a one handed hug, his arm thrown over the older turian's shoulder, "I love you, too, dad."

Once the men had wrestled their emotions under control, his father said with a twinkle in his eye, "Now, show me that...human music you were playing when I walked up."

Garrus laughed and took the corio from his father, who smiled, "Only if you teach me how to do that trilling thing."

"Deal." The men shook on it.

* * *

The week was nearly at an end, he was out in the city talking to the leaders of Palaven's planetary defense when he got the call he'd been dreading. His mother's death was imminent. He excused himself from the meeting and raced home. Solana waited for him at the door, "They're bringing her down."

"What? Why?" He puzzled, standing aside as a nurse barreled past him with some equipment in her hands.

"She wants to walk in the garden before the end, she says. You remember how stubborn she was." They both winced at her use of the past tense and he shook his head.

"Won't this shorten her time?" Garrus watched her shrug, her face already cast in grief. He embraced her tightly, saying quickly, "If that's what she wants, then that's what she'll have. Have the mechs set up some blankets on the west lawn, bring drinks and I'll get some food and plates."

They scrambled as the nursing staff slowly brought her down the stairs, carrying her like she was made of glass. His father followed anxiously, hands clasping hers, his face a ruin of sadness. They laid her on the blanket gently and she sighed, a smile playing about her eyes as she took in the cultivated beds with their riotous color. She didn't seem like she was about to die, even sat up, waving off their protests as she looked around. If not for the wasted flesh of her limbs, she was almost the mother of his memory, alive and vibrant. She touched Garrus on his cheek, whispering, "Oh, this is wonderful. What are those?"

She pointed at the flowerbed under her window and Garrus ducked his head, feeling a wash of puzzled embarrassment, like he'd been caught doing something naughty, "Earth flowers. Rose and jasmine."

He saw that the buds had blossomed already, in shades of richest carmine and brightest white. He went and gathered a small spray and laid them at her feet. She picked one up and inhaled its aroma, eyes closing in pleasure and gave it to Solana who also breathed in its sweet musk. "So strange, but so very nice. Turn that off, please."

A nurse opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it shut at a glare from his father. The beeping of machinery ceased, it was only a matter of time now. His mother sighed at the peaceful silence that fell. They sat around her, fitfully watching for signs of her faltering. She smiled and said to Solana, "Daughter of my heart, there is war, but there is also love. When you choose, choose someone you can love. You can only give your heart once, make it count."

Solana keened softly, holding her mother's hand to her cheek, mandibles fluttering with emotion. The dying woman who'd given him life and raised him with such poise and wisdom turned her gaze to him, unclasping her wristlet and laying it at his knee, "Garrus, play for me. I want to hear your heart reach out to her, up there."

He pulled his corio up to his shoulder and started playing, trying to control his breathing under the tumult of emotion he was being bombarded with. The song that he played was of Shepard's crafting but it was his mother's song and its bright notes wound through the trees with an almost mournful air. It did seem like he was calling out as he played, his ear kept wanting to pick up an answering sound from somewhere inside him and outside him all at once. He felt tugged in a direction that was vaguely east but down as well, it was uncanny.

As he finished, he heard his mother's breathing grow labored and she set her hand on his father's shoulder. He seemed diminished somehow under her gaze and nodded, picking her up in his arms. Solana reached out to Garrus and they embraced, watching his father walk slowly towards the tiny bridge across the tiny stream. At its apex, the older turian stopped and turned so she look out over the garden. They were clearly speaking, heads together, private goodbyes between mates. Garrus watched his father's shoulders begin to shake, knowing that she'd just passed, could almost see her spirit depart from her body and rocked with his sister, who keened into his shoulder softly.

It was by far one of the hardest things he'd ever had to witness, seeing his father grieve alone on that bridge, holding the cooling body of his bondmate in his arms. He keened with his sister, mourning the loss of so bright a spirit, but glad her suffering was at an end, hoping the spirits had a place for her close to their side, forever and ever, at peace.


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus looked over the men and women placed under his command, there were more than he'd thought there'd be. Proof that they were taking him seriously. He kept his face carefully blank as he surveyed them, each one handpicked to his specifications. There was almost a full company here, 200 soldiers of varying types with support crew, field medics and special weapons groups. He'd even gotten the biotics he'd requested, rare for his people, distrusted by most, but invaluable to his enterprise. In his mind, he was already placing them into squads, deadly effective little squads of different sizes, each tailored to handle anything the Reapers might throw at them. He made his way to a podium, obviously placed there so he could make the obligatory speech, standard mission objectives, sacrifice for the success of their endeavor, and so forth.

They waited in tense silence for him to speak and he surprised them by lowering his carefully built stoic mask and flashing them a wicked grin, showing them how very pleased he was with every single one of them, how spirits-damned _dangerous _they were going to be, crowing, "Oh, they are in so much trouble."

Even the most disciplined soldier gaped at this blatant breach of protocol and while they were unbalanced, he struck. Garrus commanded their gaze with a sweeping gesture of his hand, "I am Garrus Vakarian, your C.O. for this op. And for the remainder of this war, because we are at war, ladies and gentlemen. Even now, a force beyond our imagination is mobilizing a strike against every conscious soul in this galaxy. They seek no less than the complete and utter annihilation of everything and everyone we know and hold dear. There will not a single building or settlement be left standing if they are allowed to succeed."

Now they waited with bated breath, he could feel them imagine how very daunting the task was that was put to them. And he paused, jumping down from his elevated dais to walk among them, symbolically making himself one of them. He _was_ one of them, part of them and he was making them part of him, meeting every pair of eyes that had the quad to meet his icy gleeful glare and willing with his soul for the flame of righteous anger to blossom in their depths and was heartily gratified to see the fire catch like a conflagration, "I _know_. In. My. _Soul_. That every single soldier here has been tempered in the forge of battle, has been ready to die for the cause, but I ask you, I _demand_ an answer from all of you-"

His growled words plucked on every nerve there, he knew he had them, they were a single beast made of different bodies, silently howling for him to continue. They stood on the razor's edge, almost leaning toward him as his voice rolled over them in an all consuming shout, "**Are you willing to _KILL_ for the cause?!**"

Every throat opened in a shout that rang through the parade grounds of this military installation. Garrus felt bathed in the cacophony and waited patiently for it to die down. The soldiers themselves looked almost surprised at their own fervor, but every face was lit with the savage joy that he knew was also on his face. He held his hands up and every soldier snapped back to attention, "I don't want you to die for the cause, because dying means no more killing, I want you to make the Reapers regret ever coming here, to our galaxy, plundering our worlds. I want them to pay dearly for every gain, every concession and you deadly bastards are going to do it. Oh, yes you will. I _will_ show you the way."

They believed and their belief filled him with an almost unholy joy. He broke them into teams, small ones, big ones, started them on unconventional drills he'd thought up that would keep them fluid in their group dynamic, slotting people in and out easily. The ones with command potential he singled out for personal training. He dismissed them to the barracks at sundown, drained but filled with hope.

His father, who'd been watching the proceedings silently, slapped him on the shoulder, his voice almost quiet with awe, "Spirits, son, what has that commander of yours been teaching you?"

"The way, dad, the way." It was cryptic, he knew, but there was so much truth in that simple statement that it resonated across from his eyes to his father's. "Did you see them? This is gonna be brilliant, to quote a friend of mine."

"Your commander?" That was said with an amused chuckle and Garrus returned it, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

Between puffs he said, "No. Someone else, someone who had even worse scars than me."

His father made a dubious rumble, then said hesitantly, "I took a look at your personnel requests. Can I be so bold as to ask why you wanted soldiers with disciplinary reprimands for insubordination on their records?"

"I need curious soldiers. I dropped the ones that had serious issues, I kept the ones who ask questions. Flexible minds, that's what I need. This won't work if I have to break bad habits _and_ get them to form new strange ones. Ones counter to everything they've been taught since they were recruited." Garrus sighed in satisfaction, looking up at the appearing stars, "The way forward is not to abandon tradition, but also not be bound to it like a millstone around our necks. I see turian culture as a living, breathing creature trying to carry sandbags to shore through stormy waters muddied with conflict."

His father pondered the unexpected poetry of this statement, "What if the bags are not full of sand, but full of food and the creature would not survive the shore long without it?"

Garrus smiled at the imagery they were creating, "This one creature can only eat so much food and should not feel obligated to carry more than it can ever eat, deserves to not be weighed to the bottom of the ocean to die from simple over encumbrance. Exactly who are we carrying the extra food around for? Everyone else has their own traditions, they don't need ours."

The older turian said with surprise, "It sounds like you want to do more than defeat the Reapers. It sounds like you want to change the whole turian race."

He clapped his father on the shoulder affectionately, saying flippantly, "One thing at a time, dad. I'm only one turian."

* * *

It was the evening after next that he got an unexpected visitor. He was weeding the flowerbeds when a polite cough interrupted his concentration. He swung around to see a familiar short figure, looking around his little patch of greenery with stunned delight. "Thane! What are you doing here?"

He embraced the man in a hug, arms enfolding him completely. His mandible stretched in a wild grin and he thrust the smaller man out to arm's length, looking at him warmly. The smile on Thane's face was open, and he rasped, "Garrus, it is good to see you. This is...unexpected."

The drell gestured at their surroundings, provoking a laugh from Garrus who retorted, "You showing up at my house is unexpected. How'd you find me? And why didn't you call if you were coming? I could have come to get you from the spaceport."

"I didn't want to inconvenience you. Liara told me about some of the things you've accomplished here on Palaven and I came to help for as long as I can, in an advisory capacity possibly." Thane broke into a series of coughs, rattling ones that set Garrus' teeth on edge. He took closer stock of the drell. His posture was unbowed, his eyes were still clear, but his once brilliant green scales seemed a little dimmer. Otherwise, he was still the compact killing machine that he always was, still moved like, _what did Kasumi call it? Dangerous silk. Yeah, that. _Thane's tone turned teasing as he said, "I didn't expect you to have time to do landscaping. Seems oddly incongruous with what I know of your nature."

"Well, I am a big ball of contradictions. My mother...used to do this, before she took ill. She passed on recently, I do it to...honor her memory." He tried not to look at the spot on the bridge where she'd finally passed away, but it magnetized his gaze and he watched Thane walk to the bridge and stand in the center of it. His memory kept wanting to superimpose that last image of his father and mother over the bright day.

Thane ran his hands over the rail, "Did you build this? It is artfully done. The energies of this place_ flow."_

Garrus snorted, "You make it sound like a temple."

"It is a...shrine. May I stay here with you, Garrus? I'd like to meditate in this place for a time."

"Feel free, my friend. I'll just let dad and Solana know you'll be staying with us." He sent a message by omnitool and got back to weeding, his mind only partially on the task. His teams were deployed to hot zones for live combat training and he was due to meet them in the next solar day or so. From all the reports he'd been receiving, the teams were doing great, as effective as he could ever dream. This garden had become a sort of meeting place for he and his lieutenants, where they hashed out new strategies and talked philosophy, he was molding them to be greater, someday to be greater than him, which is any teacher's fondest wish. He hummed as he worked, the press of worldly concerns abating for a few minutes as he just enjoyed the moment. A thought struck him then and he turned to Thane, "Did you ever get to see your desert?"

The assassin looked up from where he was studying the roses and jasmine which had run amok in the lee of the house. "Yes. Jack and I found an arid world and we stayed there for a fortnight."

Garrus shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to approach the subject, but his concern and curiosity got the better of him, "Where is Jack? Did something happen-?"

"She is fine. Happy in the place she has found for herself." Thane looked a little wistful, "We were too different for it to work, but I think I gave her peace for a time. Her heart is fuller, more complete. Which is more than I could have hoped."

His tone said the subject was over so Garrus let it go. Didn't ask if Thane was alright. Didn't ask if Jack had brought him peace. He didn't seem broken by it, so it must have been a mutual understanding. Still, Garrus made a hopeful humming noise in his throat, "That's good. That little spitfire could use a run of good luck for once."

Thane laughed, "Indeed. Are these roses?"

Garrus felt a flush of embarrassment under his plates as he ducked his head. He could smell them from here, "Yeah, and jasmine. I really need to control their spread. I think the radiation is making them grow faster, if such a thing is possible."

"It is. I'm surprised you were able to find them here on Palaven." His back was turned to Garrus, but the turian just knew that the drell was grinning, laughing at him, "The scent...so hard to place, but it reminds me of something...someo-"

"Alright alright, I get it, laugh at the fool turian and get it over with." He stood and walked into the house, calling back over his shoulder, "We're going to have to go into town if you want food, only got dextro-friendly here."

Thane followed him, bemusedly looking around. Garrus showed to one of the guest suites, one with a private bathroom and the drell placed his small bag on the bed. "This is rather more...opulent than I'd expected from such a spartan society."

"This land has been in my family for generations, since the unification wars. One of my forebears asked for this instead of a promotion, much to the shock of his peers at the time. A turian commander giving up his commission? For shame. It's ours in perpetuity, unto the end of the world, which might be sooner than we thought." He smiled to rid the words of their chill and led the drell to the garage, where a spare car waited.

They drove over the wilderness and Thane seemed content to sit in silence, watching the wild lands roll out beneath them. Garrus slowed the vehicle to cruising speeds and hit a button, causing the roof of the car to slide backwards into a hidden compartment. Garrus laughed at the expression on the drell's face and turned his head into the wind. It buffeted them pleasantly as they zoomed over the landscape. Thane laughed wryly and said, "I believe the humans call this a convertible."

"Huh, that's what we call it, too. Strange." Garrus relaxed, the ride was soothing, "Do you think you can train people in hand to hand for me?"

"Indubitably, but you can train them yourself, no? You have the skill." Thane turned an amused black eye to him, lips pursed slightly.

"Oh c'mon, Thane, don't make me say it." Garrus rolled his eyes, but grinned at the smaller man.

"Say what, Officer Vakarian?"

"Hey, I got a whole company of men under my command. That makes me a frigging Captain."

"My apologies, _Captain_ Vakarian. What do I want you to say?" There was a hook on the end of that line and Garrus huffed in mock exasperation.

"Fine, fine have it your way. You're better than me, okay? You can kick my ass from here to Cipritine if you wanted." Garrus grinned to hear the drell laugh, his voice full and hearty, not a hint of the wheeze he'd heard earlier. That was incredibly reassuring. "Now, will you take mercy on this clumsy turian and do it?"

"Of course, I came to help. You need only ask."

"You mean I need only grovel. You're a sadist, Thane. A slick, looks too good in leather, son of a bitch assassin."

"Don't forget 'better than you at hand to hand'."

Garrus groaned and shook his fist in good humored anger, "You might be more trouble than you're worth, Krios."

"Won't be the first time I've heard that. Now, tell me what you've done so far, the reports say you've done wonders." Thane sat back and listened to Garrus as he outlined the plan, what's been already deployed and what was still in the works. And he was very gratified to see the drell looking increasingly impressed, "Truly, you have come into your own, Vakarian."

"Captain Vakarian."

"Excuse me, Captain Vakarian. Shepard would be most glad to hear how well you're preparing the turians against the Reaper invasion." Garrus tried to hide his pang of longing, but he could see from Thane's expression that he hadn't succeeded. The drell lapsed into silence for a long time, then said quietly, "I've been to see her."

"I thought she couldn't have visitors." The assassin snorted as if to say_, like they could stop me._ Garrus winked at him conspiritorially, "Of course you've been to see her, was the ductwork too small for a turian in armor? Do we need to take a field trip?"

"It was far more difficult than most of my contracts. I made sure no one saw me get in or out though. Liara had good intel on the layout of the brig she's being kept in." Thane smiled, a small smile of prideful accomplishment, "It's good to know that the Alliance is taking her security so seriously. I think I'm the only assassin that could have made it in and out. It was exceedingly...challenging."

Garrus grew impatient as time wore on, finally bursting out, "Okay, enough with the backpatting, how is she?"

"She's good, they're taking good care of her, she even gets to spend some time outside, under full guard and shields of course. Healthy, strong, patient."

That was more than Garrus could say for himself, he fretted himself to pieces some nights for want of her company. His heart kept telling him he had a bondmate out there somewhere and it was wrong to be parted from her for so long, he cleared his throat and said haltingly, "Did she say anything about..."

He drifted off and Thane patted his arm comfortingly, "She didn't, but I think that was more because she was worried about being overheard and it compromising your safety out here."

Garrus stifled the disappointment. Leave it to Shepard to still be looking out for him while she was in the brig, still a word, a sentence would have been nice, would have reassured him to no end. "Heard from the others?"

"Liara is busy being the Shadow Broker, Miranda and Jacob have fallen off the grid, Jack is okay, doing something I really shouldn't talk about, something worthy. Tali is with the flotilla, Legion is with the geth, Zaeed went back to mercenary work, though I have caught him on occasion doing good works for little to no pay," Thane paused, coughing lightly into his palm, "Kasumi is no doubt stealing something valuable as we speak, Liara said she was on Kahje not too long ago. Grunt is with Urdnot, apparently being groomed for leadership by your old friend Wrex, no less, Mordin was on Omega at his clinic last I heard and Samara, well, she is hopping from world to world righting wrongs according to her Code."

"Spending a lot of time with Liara, are we?" The turian wiggled his browplates suggestively, drawing a laugh from the drell.

"I..don't take contracts any more, but I have quite a few credits saved so I run information for her from time to time. And I'm helping Feron." Garrus had almost forgotten about the blue drell who'd saved Liara's life once and paid for it with his freedom. For two long years, he'd been tortured by the former Shadow Broker. That had to leave scars, visible and not so visible. "He grew up in the Compact, like me. I am hoping to mend him, for her sake. Though it may be a lost cause, Feron slides into memories too easily, a side effect of his prolonged torture."

That was sad news. And brought to mind another touchy subject, "How's your son?"

There was a ghost of a smile around Thane's lips and he shrugged elegantly, "As good as can be hoped. He's thinking about joining C-Sec, officially. Says the girls all like the uniform. I visit as often as I dare, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

The pain in the man's voice tugged at Garrus' heart, which understood only too well how it hurt to be estranged, son from father, "Keep the faith. He'll come around."

The drell shot him a grateful look and his neck frills flushed slightly with emotion. The grocery shopping went well and Garrus was confident that they were well stocked for however long Thane wanted to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

Which turned out to be three weeks. In that short expanse of time, Thane had trained a dozen men and women in his deadly style of hand to hand fighting and they in turn trained a dozen each, until the whole company was skilled in the art, not all of them masters but definitely faster, stronger. In a few weeks, they would be ready to be deployed for real. There had already been a couple attacks on colonies, the culprits never discovered. Garrus had his suspicions who was responsible but kept it under wraps until it could be confirmed with his own eyes.

Garrus got permission from his father to clear an old vineyard west of the main house and this was where his troops came to drill, it was perfect for it. The ground was loamy and soft, difficult to run on, he'd had crates which could be broken down and moved as they needed. It also meant he could surprise them with night drills, much to the soldiers' displeasure. But they loved him for it, and he loved them all. He was proud of them, his deadly little army.

He and Thane watched them from a nearby hilltop as two teams of eight assaulted a 'tower' where a team of three defended. The two men groaned and laughed as the battle progressed, gains and losses on both sides. He was exceedingly pleased with the clever tactics both sides employed and shouted encouragement from his perch, which seemed to drive the teams to even greater heights.

The two men exchanged friendly little wagers on the outcome of this sortie. It was still up in the air who would be victorious, that is until one of the defenders fell over 'dead'. Garrus shouted in dismay.

Thane chuckled evilly, "And I believe that's the game, my friend. She was their lynchpin and it's only a matter of time...ah, see there they go."

The remainder of the blue team stormed the tower and a few seconds later, one of them was waving the red team's flag in victory.

Garrus groaned, "Aw, taken out by a 'husk' what was she thinking?"

"Probably that there were five more flanking them, which she took out. And now, I believe you owe me 50 credits."

"Pirate." Garrus made a show of reluctantly handing over the credits, then shouted down to his men to set it all back up again, ending with, "Use some damn ordinance!"

They settled back down to watch the company scramble to set up, moving with practiced precision. Like a well oiled machine. Thane hummed with approval and shot Garrus a sidelong look, "Do you know what I heard one of the privates say the other day?"

"What?" The turian used his visor to zoom in on the figures below.

"They've taken to calling themselves Vakarian's Vagabonds." The drell had a tiny little smile on his face, inviting comment with one quirked brow.

"I know, it's impossible to stop that sort of thing from happening. But at least it's better than what they wanted to call themselves at first."

"And what was that?"

Garrus braced himself for ridicule, grunting, "Vakarian's Vigilantes."

A loud peal of laughter burst from Thane, drawing confused looks from below. Garrus leapt to his feet and shouted angrily, "A little damned distraction and you lot stop like pyjaks in a mako's headlights! Move! Move!"

Suitably chastised, the soldiers attacked with renewed ferocity. Garrus plopped back down next to the assassin, whose shoulders were still quaking with laughter. He shoved him with a bump of his shoulder and the drell limply rolled onto his back, tears of mirth rolling out of his eyes, "Spirits, Thane. It's not that funny."

"I, ha, beg to differ. Hmmm, I shall have to pass that little tidbit on to Shepard if I happen to see her again." Thane laughed again at the expression on his face.

"Don't you dare, you sneaky devil." Garrus mocked throwing a blow and Thane rolled away from him, clutching his sides and coughing a bit.

Thane waved off assistance and sat up, "So I guess I shouldn't tell you that your precious troops are planning to ambush you tonight in your tent. A little revenge for all those late night drills."

With interest, he cast his gaze over the 'battlefield' where the defenders were doing much better this time, he smiled with glee at the clever, clever bastards, knowing they wouldn't be able to make out his expression from this distance, "Oh, are they? Shall we re-enact my last stand at Omega? You're no Shepard, but can you imagine their faces when you start laying into them from behind?"

Thane laughed, nodding to say that he was indeed up for the game and they started strategizing, laughing so hard that the outcome of the next three 'battles' came and went without a single wager placed on them.

* * *

That night, Garrus lay prone on top of the 'tower' which he'd had the troops reconstruct on high ground and crates placed in such a way as to make a corridor to it, all with the excuse and the promise that the morning's drills would be harder than anything they'd done so far. The saps. He grinned to himself when his thermals picked up movement down there, stealthy prowling around his command tent. Shouts of surprise when they'd jumped in and found not a single sign of him. He zoomed in on one as it exited his tent and let fly with his light concussive rounds. Sounds of dismay as they realized the game was up. He laughed loudly at them as he popped a few more and they finally spotted him in his high perch.

He heard an excited murmur as they caught on, heard the sound of weapons loading from where he was lying in cover. He grinned as they started moving like a team towards his position, if the mercs at Omega had done that, he would have been done for for sure, but he'd learned a few things since then and as they charged up his killbox, he fired into paint containers at their feet. Those were 'bombs' and following the rules, the ones hit by paint fell 'dead'. It was exhilarating, being at the barrel end of this weapon he'd created, this beast he'd trained. Concussive rounds bounced off his 'battlements' and he ducked down out of their line of fire. They were so brilliant, striving towards his perch. They started baiting him, drawing his fire with deceptively lifelike decoys, trying to deplete his ammo.

He lit a cigarette and took out three soldiers who were trying to climb up his backside. He had full 360 degree view of the grounds from here and pushed back several skirmishers as they sought to flank him. They nearly succeeded a couple times and he felt a rush of pride. He could almost hear them thinking down there and put a round in a crate near where they were hiding just to remind them that he was waiting. His company was already down to half strength and he knew, just knew that it would occur to them soon that the only option he'd left them was a full on assault and so, with a stealth born of many lonely excursions to sniper nests deep in enemy territory, he crept down, leaving his favored Black Widow up there so it would look like he was still trained on them. There were also some carefully laid 'presents' for them and he set the tripwires as he passed. With painful slowness, he crawled to his next post further up the hill. His Mantis waited up there and he'd just reached it and dropped into cover when the sound of many booted feet tromping the grass behind him signaled their final assault.

He smiled to himself as he watched them climb the tower and with a loud 'poof' his booby traps went off, spraying everyone on the tower with paint. Garrus crowed and picked off all the remaining stragglers that he could see and leapt to his feet with a shout. Something, some small detail plagued him then, like he'd forgotten some vital piece of information. Just as it came to him, hands grabbed him from behind and a thumb dragged itself across his throat and with a dark chuckle, Thane said, "You're dead, Vakarian."

"Aw, Thane!" His loud groan brought cheers from all around as his defeated company walked up the hill. After a moment of looking at the assassin with anger and consternation, Garrus joined them, laughing at his own hubris. He spread his hands helplessly and said, "Who would have thought a knife would do the job a rocket couldn't?"

Thane smiled in a sinister way and said, "Me."

Garrus guffawed and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder and the troops took up a chant, "Krios. Krios. Krios."

The assassin looked nonplussed, not sure how to react, when the soldiers picked him up on their shoulders and carried him back down to camp. Garrus followed, shaking his head, he collected his Black Widow, which sadly was now covered in blue paint. He'd clean it later, instead using it as a kind of baton, keeping time with the chant, lifting his voice to join theirs, in congratulations to the one who'd outsmarted their commander.

He plopped down on a box next to the assassin, they'd stoked the fires again and the area was aglow with light. The soldiers passed around some beers, being in high spirits despite their failed ambush. Garrus passed out compliments and criticisms with an even hand, taking jabs at his own 'death' at Thane's hands with aplomb. He smiled at Thane, "You sure you have to go tomorrow? You're going to miss this."

"I'm sure I will, but all good things must come to an end. I have business matters awaiting my immediate attention, plus I'd like to see my son."

Garrus dropped his voice and said with a tone of longing, "If you see her again, will you tell her-I-well, you know, that I'm thinking about her."

"I can do better than that if you let me take some of those blossoms from your garden." Thane flashed a secretive smile in the dark and tapped his wrist, where Garrus belatedly realized that sometime during the scuffle, his wristlet had come out of his sleeve, "Careful, my friend, your heart is showing."

Garrus jerked his sleeve back over the thick cord of red hair with a wince and a glance to see if anyone else had noticed, then leaned conspiratorially toward Thane, "I, uh, don't suppose you'd forget you saw that."

Thane scoffed and Garrus thought_, oh right Thane forgetting, fuck. "_I will not mention it to anyone. You have my word."

Garrus breathed a sigh of relief and hugged the man with one arm, "Thanks, buddy. For everything."

"Anything for Vakarian's Vagabonds."

Garrus groaned, rolling his eyes and pushed the man with his shoulder, laughed when he pushed back. Yep, he's going to miss the deadly bastard.

* * *

Garrus dropped the assassin off at the spaceport with many heartfelt farewells and a box of flowers, stored in a vacuum to preserve them. There was no telling when Thane would make it back to Earth, if he did before the end. There was only hope...and it was enough.

He'd just pulled away from the curb out into traffic when Kasumi popped into existence next to him. With a startled yell, he swerved into oncoming traffic, only his reflexes saving them from crashing as he fought to regain control of the car. Once they'd settled into the right lane, Garrus looked at her, panting heavily, "Didn't I tell you to stop doing that?!"

Those full lips under that hood curled into a smile mysterious enough to be worthy of the man who'd just vacated that seat. She shrugged and said, "Did you miss me, Garru-kun?"

He glared at her askance and said sarcastically, "Yes, I missed you. I missed you so much that at the sight of you, I almost crashed my car and nearly crapped my pants at the same time."

She flung her arms around him in a quick embrace, "I missed you, too."

He grinned into her shoulder, trying to see around her to drive, "I better not be missing my wallet."

"You're no fun," She leaned back into her seat with a pout, crossing her arms, "I just wanted to come see your home. Thane's been sending pictures of it to Liara and of course, I've been intercepting them."

"Just my house, right?" Surely, Thane wouldn't send pictures of his top secret government training project over the extranet.

Kasumi's smile was devious as she said, "Why? What else is there to see?"

He rolled his eyes at her, "Oh you know, rare sculptures, prize paintings, lots of what did you call it...gilt."

She smacked him on the arm, "Garrus, gilt means it just looks expensive, but it's crap really."

"So, how long might I have the pleasure of your company?"

"Trying to get rid of me already? I have to say, you're a terrible host and I haven't even gotten to see your house yet." She threw him a crooked smile and he sighed.

"You can stay with me for as long as you like, Kasumi, but just to let you know, I'll be heading out to the colonies in a couple weeks on assignment. Some of us have jobs to do." Garrus flexed his mandibles at her in mock consternation, "I'm only going to tell you this once. My room is off limits, anything in the house better stay exactly where it is, or I'll feed you to my sister."

"Oooh, scary."

"She's terrifying, so keep your distance." Garrus parked the car and got out, coming around to help her exit with an offered hand. Kasumi smiled at the convention but took his hand nonetheless. He grabbed her bag from the back, slinging it over his shoulder, "I'll show you to your room."

"Such a gentleman. Are you sure your room is off limits?" Her hips swayed with her words and Garrus blinked, mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes." He said shortly, clamping his mouth shut. He sent a message to his father and sister that he had yet another visitor and got a reply almost immediately stating that it was understood and they'd be happy to meet him/her. Thane had been a ghost in the house while he'd stayed, eating a few polite meals with his family but otherwise meditating in the garden. In fact, his father had taken to the assassin and his quiet ways in a surprising twist. They were often seen meditating together among the mosses and flowers.

Garrus was sure the men had things to talk about, sons for example and it seemed to have helped the older Vakarian get over his grief having a kindred spirit roaming the place, despite the drell's nefarious past. Garrus didn't know what his family would think of Kasumi, hoped her very active career as a thief wouldn't cause any friction in the house. He put her in the same room Thane stayed in, pointing out the amenities, then excusing himself to go weed the garden, like he did everyday around this time.

The soldiers of his company had left earlier on leave, four days where they would be gone to celebrate or spend time with family or whatever they needed to do before he sent them into hell. He knew these reminders of what they were striving for were a necessary part of what he was trying to accomplish here so leave was mandatory. He missed the sight of their tents on that hill though, missed them.

He was pondering all this when Kasumi decided to join him in the garden, wearing a heavy robe of some kind, drawn tight at the waist with a wide purple sash. Her hood matched the rest of her outfit and she wandered through his garden with a smile on her face, "The pictures don't do it justice, Garrus. This is positively amazing."

She sank to the ground gracefully, beneath a tree, her back to him. He saw her raise her hands and push her hood back. His natural curiosity nagged at him to go look at her face. He'd never seen the whole of it, just the suggestion of parts of it in the gloom. Garrus suppressed those feelings though and kept working, humming a bit. After an hour, he straightened, popping his back loudly. He stood with his face to the sun, letting it warm his plates and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, willing his mind to still and heartbeat to slow. His father wasn't the only one who'd learned a thing or two about meditating. Garrus preferred to do it standing, to feel grounded through his feet.

A soft sigh from Kasumi brought his attention around to her. Her hood was back up and she was just watching him, she gestured around them, "This is almost Japanese. It's peaceful here, you are at peace here."

He felt a pang of loss, he wasn't quite at peace. There was a piece of him missing, a very large piece, but knowing she was alive and well out there on her homeword let him forget that little fact at times. He waved his hand dismissively, "What's Japanese?"

"Japan. It's a country on Earth, or was, before all the borders were dissolved. It was a country full of ancient tradition, where the ruling class had a whole caste of warriors called samurai to fight for them. It was all very ritualized. They fought ferociously, then went home to make tea, or paint or tend gardens with equal ferocity. Every facet of their lives was done with the same amount of devotion." Kasumi walked toward him and he fought the urge to back up. Obviously, he'd been too long without companionship if he was looking at her that way. He'd have to take care of his urges later, alone. She grinned, "Don't suppose turians have tea?"

"I...don't know. Describe it and maybe we have something close." Garrus listened closely as she told him about dried leaves steeped in boiling water and nodded, yes they had something like that, "It sounds like cha. If you like, we can go into town tonight and get some. Maybe they'll have some tea as well."

She flashed a smile at him, "I'd like that, Garrus. There's some other things I'd like to pick up, too."

He quirked a brow at her, making his voice come out teasingly, "Like what? Primarch's ceremonial staff of office?"

Kasumi slapped his shoulder and he put his hands up in surrender, laughing at her pout. "Garrus, I'm not here to steal anything. I just wanted to visit my good friend, Garru-kun and meet his family. I'm sure they're delightful."

"Dad's a cop, so...unless you want him to arrest you, you better not be."

* * *

They wandered through the markets, the two of them idly arm in arm. He laughed at her amazement at some of the merchandise on display. He was sure a lot of it was a complete mystery to her and patiently explained why turians needed a motorized grinding tool to blunt their talons, what significance certain small idols had for households who still believed in spirit worship. He was surprised however that she knew what the longhandled brushes were for. Kasumi tutted under her breath, "Of course, I know what a back scrubber is, Garru-kun. You think turians have the monopoly on itchy backs?"

"No, I just figured humans were flexible enough to scrub their own backs." She was wearing another one of those long robes, very colorful with patterns of birds flying across an azure sky with clouds and mountains along the bottom. The exotic sight turned many a head in this square and Garrus wondered what they made of this bright little bird in their midst. He kept his body language completely platonic toward her and that only seemed to increase other males' interest, much to his surprise. He hadn't thought other turians found humans attractive, had worried for a time that he was some kind of deviant, but here was evidence of changing perspectives among his people and he felt a flush of hope. All the old prejudices were being set aside, it was good to see.

She begged leave of him and went into a pottery store, of all things, well she wasn't about to get into trouble in there so he wandered a bit, picking up the odd trinket to inspect it when a voice almost at his elbow startled him, "Excuse me, are you Garrus Vakarian?"

He turned to see a salarian in black armor with gold stripes looking at him amiably. With a puzzled frown, he replied, "I am. Can I help you?"

"Jondum Bau, Special Tasks and Reconnaissance, I was wondering if I might trouble you for some information about an acquaintance of yours. A Miss Kasumi Goto."

Garrus kept his face schooled in a bland expression and kept his eyes from darting to the doorway through which Kasumi had just disappeared. So this salarian was a Spectre, he felt irritation at the little thief for dragging him into this, whatever this is. "Bau, was it? Always a pleasure to help a Spectre. What do you need to know?"

"Certain items have disappeared from Kahje recently and the leadership there would like them back." The Spectre was tall for a salarian, with broad shoulders, Garrus was pretty sure he could take him if it came down to it. But he really didn't want to, not with all these witnesses. He cursed Kasumi silently.

"You're tracking a thief? Isn't that a little low...priority for a Spectre?" Honestly puzzled, Garrus waited for an explanation.

"A master thief. Her intelligence and skill are almost salarian." There was more than respect in that voice and Garrus just barely kept the shock from his face. A salarian showing...interest. He thought Mordin said salarians have little to no sex drive. Maybe he wasn't after sex, hmmmm. Curiouser and curiouser.

Just then, an arm latched onto his and a familiar voice wheedled, "Honey, you said you'd take me to the beach today-Oh, I'm sorry, have we met?"

The salarian looked to the woman on Garrus' arm and smiled affably, "Jondum Bau. Special Tasks and Reconnaissance."

Kasumi shook his hand and gushed, "Oooo a Spectre...I'm Aya Hirano. Garru-kun, is this one of your exotic friends from the Normandy?"

"No, dear. We've only just met." He smiled down into her face, which was held in a petulantly vapid expression, "He's asking me about Kasumi, you remember Kasumi, you met her at the party after I came back, right? Seems she's been naughty, taking things that don't belong to her again."

There was the tiniest warning flash in what he could see of her eyes and he lifted a brow, a wicked thought crossing his mind, "I thought we could invite him for tea this afternoon, so I could tell him what he wants to know away from curious ears."

The corners of her mouth lifted and she turned a gentle smile on the bemused salarian, her tones colored with entreaty, "Oh, you must come to tea, Bau-san."

The salarian seemed reticent to intrude, but eventually acquiesced, "I would be delighted, indeed."

The three of them piled into the aircar and off they went. Garrus was a little nervous about being able to pull off this ruse. Good thing his father and sister weren't due back til tomorrow, it would be impossible to get around the older Vakarian's strict sense of right and wrong. As it was, he had to do this carefully. Spectre's weren't exactly known for their tolerance of subterfuge and misdirection.

Once home, he left Kasumi to get the garden set up for their little meeting and showed the salarian around the house. He looked at Bau sidelong, "So, how are things out in citadel space?"

"There's a troubling amount of worlds going silent. It's not the Collectors, as you well know. Commander Shepard's report on the Collector base was thorough in its description of how she and her crew dispatched all of them. I understand you were there in the final push?"

"I was, it was the stuff of nightmares. Right out of the darkest, most traumatizing nightmare you could think of." Garrus shuddered, thinking of the huge figure of the Human Reaper hanging limply from its umbilical cords like a puppet. "Dark days ahead indeed."

The salarian watched him closely. "Miss Goto was there, as well?"

Garrus coughed, scratching his fringe, "Yeah, she was brilliant, fast and deadly. All of them were brilliant, even me, which I'm sure surprised the hell out of Shepard."

He laughed with the salarian, putting the man at ease. Kasumi called them outside and the men sat in places on the ground she pointed out to them. She sat in quiet stillness as the men watched. Then she started to move, her deft hands moving from cup to cup, flying gracefully through this ritual, as Garrus could see now that it was indeed a ritual. There was reverence in every move, every gesture, from drawing boiling water out of the kettle to setting the tools down in front of her in neat patterns. It was a dance of nimble fingers and he followed them entranced, almost forgetting the salarian sitting across from him. When she bowed over the pot at the end, he breathed a sigh, "Aya, that was lovely."

She smiled in the gloom under her hood, cheeks dimpling prettily. She turned the bowl in her hand twice before handing it to him, repeating the action for Bau's tea. The salarian sipped thoughtfully, "Miss Hirano, I've never seen this human custom before. May I ask what it's called?"

"Bau-san, it is the Japanese tea ceremony and it is hundreds of years old. This pot-" She gestured to the clay kettle, which Garrus knew didn't come from Palaven. She must have brought it with her, "-has been in my family for generations."

The salarian smiled at her then said to Garrus, "So, about Miss Goto. Do you have any information on her whereabouts? Any intel at all would be useful."

"I wish I could tell you that I'd seen her, but-" He left it dangling, not really willing to lie. Lying wasn't something turians really took lightly. He'd do it if he had to to protect his friend, but he really didn't want to. Luckily, as he'd hoped, the Spectre finished his thought for him.

"-But you haven't...I see. Well that is disappointing. I shall have to investigate elsewhere then. She must be as clever as her partner was." Bau made to stand and was halted by Kasumi's sweet voice and her hand on his arm.

"Are you sure you can't stay longer, Bau-san? Tell us more about this thief and her partner?"

Garrus was concerned that he heard a note of something like desperation in her voice, but it was clear from Bau's expression that he was oblivious to it. Which was a relief to say the least. For a second there, Garrus thought the gig was up and tensed slightly. Bau smiled indulgently, saying, "For you, dear lady, anything. I must repay your hospitality somehow. Hmm, where to start..."

The salarian settled back down, his large expressive eyes becoming pensive, "I found out about Miss Goto when I was actually tracking her partner, Keiji Okuda. There was a chain of thefts across dozens of worlds, and I knew that Keiji was involved but it seemed impossible for him to be behind every single one. The dates and times almost matched up, but they were too close together for it to be him every time. The worlds were light years apart. It occurred to me that it must be two thieves, with similar M.O.s, having, of all things, a sort of competition. As the scope of the thefts grew larger and more complex, it was clear to me that this was indeed the case."

"I set up a sting operation, putting false information out through trusted contacts that a certain rare art piece could be acquired by enterprising individuals. What I didn't count on was _both _of them showing up, working in tandem against my agents, knocking out the video surveillance. I was on my way up to the hotel room I'd set up for this when the elevator stalled. I was stuck, my targets not forty feet above me, even the lift hatch was welded shut. They'd missed one bug in the hotel room and I listened intently for any clue as to the other thief's identity. Apparently, the thieves, one male, Keiji, and one female, at that point unidentified, decided the room was a good place for a-ah- ahem- liaison-"

The salarian paused, looking faintly embarrassed. Garrus watched a blush creep over Kasumi's neck and cheeks but her voice came out almost too smoothly, "How scandalous. And you...listened to this, did you?"

"I am a professional, I needed clues. And I got my wish, in the midst of all the, um, noises, I distinctly heard Keiji say 'Kasumi'. Needless to say, I spent the rest of my time trapped in that elevator searching databases and sending messages to contacts. I had a rudimentary dossier in a matter of hours. Thus began my pursuit of the most successful criminal partnership since Gray and Gnorgath sacked three volus casinos in one night. Sadly, my contacts informed me a year ago that Keiji Okuda had been killed. A shame that I wasn't able to stop them before one of their jobs went bad."

He could hear Kasumi's heart beat quicken, but her face and body language never changed. She made a noise of sympathy, "It sounds like you admire them."

Bau smiled ruefully, "They're artists. It's a shame that practicing their art meant breaking the law. If they had the penchant for espionage and were working for a government agency, the chances of me ever needing to pursue them would have been next to nil. As it is, they broke the law, scoffed at it at times and I think being incarcerated is better than being dead, don't you, Miss Hirano?"

She hummed an affirmative, taking his bowl and refilling it with tea, still in that graceful ceremonial way. The ladle dipped, poured and was laid gently across the lip of the kettle, balanced there beautifully. "Maybe doing what they were doing was the only way they felt truly alive."

"Preliminary psych profiles suggest that the thrill of possibly being caught could account for such behaviors, but I believe that was only part of what they were trying to accomplish." Bau elucidated with animated gestures, looking vaguely upward as he was caught up in his thoughts, "A lot of these things they'd stolen were in private collections, rarely seen by anybody, hoarded greedily by rich men. Items that Miss Goto stole invariably wound up in public collections, her fences only sold to true art lovers. It is very...admirable."

Garrus exchanged a glance with Kasumi as the salarian mused quietly to himself. Kasumi smiled at the Spectre in amusement, her vapid mask still in place. Bau sipped his drink, and she said, "So why do you chase her, Bau-san? If she is so...admirable."

"I have never before been...challenged by a target, let alone two. When Keiji died before I could finish the puzzle, it was most...jarring. I need to know the inner workings of her mind. It must be quite a singular thing to understand." This was said quietly, and Bau looked at her over the rim of his bowl. Garrus felt his hackles want to raise, surely the salarian was just playing with them now. Any minute now the guns would come out and there'd be blood sprayed across his garden, red and blue mixing in the stream next to them. Garrus thought longingly of his rifle, in the house behind him. Tension rose between the three of them, but the salarian smiled and stood, bowing graciously, "Thank you for the wonderful time, Mr. Vakarian and Miss Hirano. I must be going, there's a lot of catching up I need to do."

"I'll drive you back into town, Bau." Garrus stood and walked the man to the car.

* * *

Garrus burst in on her, his face a mask of rage, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Kasumi looked up from the glow of the grey box, tears streaming down her face, "I'm sorry, Garrus. I didn't mean to bring him to Palaven."

"This is my family's house! What if he'd decided to kill us, what if he'd killed them?!" He picked her up by her arms and shook her slightly. She went limp and he set her down with a growl. "Of all the stupid, inconsiderate-"

He raged at her for a good twenty minutes, stomping around the room, waving his arms in the air. He was so angry at her, it boiled in his veins. She took it all in without complaint, sitting up on the bed, her arms hugging her knees to her chest, tears still streaming down her face. Finally, he wore himself out and glared at her, his voice low, "That damned box-"

He jabbed a talon in its direction, "-with its damned ghost don't give a damn what you do, what happens to you. He's not in there. Do you steal to keep his memory alive? Is that what he'd want? Let him die. You're so stuck in memories that you're missing out on moments."

He snarled coldly, "You've jeopardized everything I'm trying to do here, Kasumi. The whole damn galaxy is at the brink of extinction and you're still playing games. You leave tomorrow and take that cursed thing with you."

Garrus stalked to his room, wishing he could break something. He flopped down on his bed, still dressed in his civvies and draped one arm over his face. Guilt was creeping in around the edges of his mind, he shouldn't have shaken her like that. Shouldn't have been cruel about Keiji's grey box, the words had left him like arrows dipped in poison. He'd seen her cringe as they struck. Shame crawled up his spine, a friend wouldn't have picked apart her weaknesses like that. Self-recriminations plagued him as he sought sleep. He'd apologize in the morning, that's what he'd do.

He must have dozed for a moment because a warm shape wriggled into bed with him, startling him awake. He looked down to see a hooded head nestled against his chest plates, "Uh, Kasumi, I thought I told you my room is off limits."

She took a hitching breath and said softly, "I'm so sorry, Garrus. I didn't think. That Spectre could have killed you and your family and it would have been my fault. All my fault."

She sobbed and he pulled her face up so she could see him as he smiled down at her, "Hey, look, it would have been partly my fault, too. I'm the one that invited him over for cha, after all. We're okay, you're okay, no harm done."

Her sobs grew louder and he crooned to her until she quieted, her warmth a welcome sensation against his side. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was Shepard curled up next to him. Eventually, Kasumi said, hesitantly, "You're right...about moments and memories. When Shepard let me keep the grey box, I thought I was keeping him close, but he's not in there. He's somewhere...better."

"Yeah, better." He squeezed her with an arm around her shoulders, "I'm sorry...for shaking you, and those awful things I said, it was cruel. And...and you don't have to leave, if you don't want to."

She sniffled, balling her fist in his shirt, "Can I ask you a favor, Garru-kun?"

He thought about jerking her around for the whole Spectre thing, but thought better of it. "Sure, Kasumi. What is it?"

"I'm ready to let it go. But I never got to bury Keiji, can I put the grey box in the soil of your garden?" She held her breath as she waited for his response.

"Yeah, we'll put him near my mother on the east lawn." He smiled at her relieved sigh. "Only on one condition."

She looked up at him, her eyes glittering from under her hood. She played with her bottom lip as she waited for him to continue. He stretched his mandibles in a mischievous grin, "I want to see your face."

She laughed and thrust her hood back stridently, revealing a heartshaped face crowned in a waterfall of perfectly black hair. Which hung impossibly straight down around her face. It was a young face, younger than he'd thought it would be, unlined, unscarred. Her eyes were dark, almost black on black. Garrus took her chin between thumb and forefinger and turned her face left, then right, "Huh, just what I thought...human."

"Was there any doubt?" She smiled, saucily.

"For all I knew, from the nose up you could have been a volus."

She covered her mouth and in a cunning imitation of the breathy way volus speak, said, "*_gasp_*...Not... *_gasp*._..funny."

They laughed easily and Garrus pressed his mouthplates to her temple, rumbling at her giggle. Garrus settled back on the bed, closing his eyes. She laid her head back down on his chest and said, "So...Bau-san's kinda cute."

"The salarian? Isn't he trying to put you in jail?"

She shrugged, "It's how he gets his kicks, obviously."

Garrus chuckled, "No, voyeuristically listening to two people have sex is how he gets his kicks. You don't find that off-putting at all?"

"What, that a man who'd never seen my face is so obsessed with me that he chases me across the traverse simply because I'm intrigue him? No, I think it's kind of romantic."

"Oh, well when you put it that way. Are salarians even compatible?" His curiosity was piqued, though he wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was just the strangeness of the whole thing.

"They are."

"Okay, I'm not going to ask how you know that. What about the low sex drive thing? Mordin was pretty strident about that."

"Maybe there are exceptions. I don't know if you noticed, but Spectres tend to be an exceptional group."

"Well, you're a big girl. You know what you're doing. There's worse men out there." He was getting really sleepy, and it should be safe enough to sleep with Kasumi in the bed if he was fully clothed.

She sighed, yawning, "Thanks, dad."

With a last chuckle, he fell off to sleep. For once, peacefully. A warm body lay next to him with its regular breaths and beating heart drumming softly in his ears. He'd missed the simple comfort in it.


	5. Chapter 5

"So...that Kasumi's pretty interesting." His sister was baiting him, so he ignored her as he concentrated on blocking her strikes. Someone had gotten lessons from Thane behind his back, clearly. She gracefully swept a leg in a circle to try to trip him and he leapt over it easily, kicking out with a leg at the apex of his jump. She swayed back, avoiding it neatly. "Don't think I didn't notice her sneaking out of your room this morning."

"I doubt you'd see her if she were actually sneaking." Garrus rolled his eyes, throwing a lazy jab at her ribs, which she deflected with her forearm. He breathed in sharply as her elbow connected with his side, "And it's not like that. We're just friends."

"Friends with...benefits?" She caught his knee strike in her palms, but reeled back when his elbow dropped onto her shoulder, giving a pained grunt.

"Maybe if you got your mind out of the gutter, you would have better luck blocking me." She flew at him in a flurry of kicks and punches and he let her work herself out, deflecting the power of her blows, allowing himself to predict the next series of attacks based on the pattern of her style.

"Ugh, I hate it when you do that." There was a frustrated snarl on her face as each subsequent blow failed to connect completely.

"Do what?" He said innocently, "Out-think you?"

She tried to chase his avoidance with her kicks, only succeeding in tiring herself out and she panted, "No fair. Let me hit you."

"Let you hit me? How is that fair to me?" Garrus laughed at her expression of disbelief and tossed her a towel, "I gotta go check on some things. Can you take Kasumi to the market? Thanks, bye."

Without waiting for a response, he walked into the house, hearing her grumbled protests. He knew in spite of them, she would enjoy being around Kasumi. The thief had a way of ingratiating herself to everyone around her. He could hear his father in the garden playing his corio and wanted to get an update on defense preparations and other things.

He sat next to the older turian and just breathed the fragrant air. The roses and jasmine he'd planted had taken over the flowerbeds all around the house, much to his chagrin and secret delight. Here, in this place, listening to music and smelling her scent was enough to feel closer to her. Spirits, he missed her so much. He picked up a second corio and joined in, playing harmony to his father's melody. It was a ambling tune, not complex, not urgent like the marches his father had played in his youth, but just existing, going wherever it willed. His father smiled as he put down the instrument, "When are your men due back?"

"Tomorrow, leave's ending a day early and I'm guessing you're about to tell me why." Garrus leaned on a tree, sighing.

"More colonies have gone dark. It's not Reapers, they don't think, but mobilizing what we have has been upgraded to the highest priority. Are they ready?"

Garrus thought about it for a bit, there might be some polishing that needed doing but overall the groundwork was laid. Everything else would come with experience, "Yes. I'm going, too."

His father shook his head, "They want you to stay here, train another cadre. They've already assembled the next platoons. There's no one else who can train them like you do."

"I need to be out there with them. You think we're the only ones preparing, changing? I need to see it for myself, to change the training to fit the situation." Garrus squelched the irritation he felt at the thought of these generals and leaders still trying to do things like they have for time immemorial. "I can be back in a month to train the next set. But for now, tell them that this is necessary if they want the best chance."

"The Primarch will be here tomorrow to oversee deployment, you can tell him yourself. What are we going to do with the idle soldiers?"

Curious, how everyone wanted answers from him now, like it was difficult to decide what to do with the units they'd commanded for years before he'd come along. This dependence on him would have to be remedied, as well, he could see. He started laying plans to get his lieutenants into key positions in the military, so there would be no head that could be struck off, no way for the enemy to cripple this strategy of his with one well aimed bullet, "Tell them I want Menae for a training ground. Get a barracks built and command pods dropped all over the thing. It'll be our last line of defense anyway, should the Reapers get that far."

His father gripped his arm tightly, "I'll pass the word. Be careful out there, son."

"I will, dad, I will."

* * *

He stared dismally out into the rain at a compound full of Cerberus agents. His hunch was right, but he didn't have to be happy about it. They'd supplanted the colony so they could train their soldiers here and he didn't like what he was seeing. It was something like what he was doing, mixed forces groups drilling endlessly in the fields surrounding the central building. His small 5-man insertion squad had marched for a day from the LZ to avoid detection. Their body heat was masked by the rain, but that was a double edged sword, because that meant that their own radar wasn't working either.

Seems the Illusive Man learned a thing or two from Shepard as well, except for the important stuff, like mercy. They'd already passed ditches with turian bodies piled in the bottom of them. Everyone, even the kids.

It was depressing to see her teachings perverted to make these super soldiers, a pale imitation of the gestalt she was able to create among disparate people with a hash of different skills. The longer he watched the more he wanted to wipe this place from existence and he turned to his squad with a savage grin. "See the back door over there? We're going to turn this bastard inside out. I'm willing to bet most of their troops are outside in the rain. A fortress is no good if your enemy is already inside it."

Three guards were at the aforementioned back door, the view of which from the training grounds was blocked by an outcropping of stone, perfect. He and the other sniper on his team screwed silencers onto their rifles and waited for their cloaked buddy to work his way over there before popping the flanking guards heads off, trusting the center one to be incapacitated shortly after. Garrus zoomed in to watch an omniblade burst from the Cerberus troop's chest, he slid to the ground silently. His soldier reappeared and waved them over. Stealthily, taking advantage of every piece of cover there was out here, Garrus and his squad made their way into the base. "We got maybe five minutes to secure this building. Go room by room, clean it out. Lock the doors behind you, triple encoded. We need time to get to the top."

It wasn't a very large compound and there was only support staff inside, who seemed utterly surprised to be shot by turian special forces. They were fast, methodical, _precise._ Just what he'd envisioned at the outset of this adventure. Garrus didn't hear the alarms go up until they were at the top of the compound, looking down at the hapless fools who'd left their fortress undefended. They started firing at the soldiers who'd rushed the doors, mowing them down with fury. Garrus squinted against the muzzle flash of his assault rifle, and swung it back and forth, catching any poor sod who dared approach the base. Whoever commanded those troops down there was doing a shit job, they kept throwing themselves at the locked doors, as if sheer numbers were going to do it. He laughed at the ridiculousness of it until a red beam of light blinded him and he dropped behind cover quickly, "Sniper!"

He pulled his Black Widow out and cautiously peered out there, thinking hard about the layout of the field down there, deduced that there was only one viable angle that a sniper down there could have cover and a good shot and smiled to himself as he swung to the right. Ah, there she was. A tiny figure down there with a big big gun. He took his time, adjusting for variables before centering the sight over a spot he was certain would soon contain that sniper's head. A second later and that masked head was square in his sights, a targeting laser shined in his scope and he squeezed the trigger almost lovingly. Time slowed as he watched his bullet travel the distance, saw the spray of blood as his target's head disappeared in a shower of gore. He felt something wet run down his cheek and reached up to find that the sniper had indeed fired and grazed him, "Son of a bitch."

"Door one is open." There were only a few Cerberus troops left, so he sent his men down to clean it out, sweeping the rainy field for more unpleasant surprises. This must have been a tiny installation, maybe one of the first. He wished it were the only, but he knew better, Cerberus liked multiple things, they had hundreds of cells all acting independently of one another. It only made sense that they'd make multiple training grounds as well. There were a lot of worlds out there.

He shook himself free of the thought for now and wandered through the facility, finding that some of the quarters had been repurposed for research, if all the microscopes and things were any indication. He picked up some schematics for a new rifle upgrade and passed it to his LT, who chuffed in surprise that he was looting, Garrus turned to the man and said, "Waste not."

A bleeping light on a monitor grabbed his attention and after running his omnitool over it to make sure the bastards hadn't done something clever like boobytrap their own facility, he shrugged and hit the button. He was utterly surprised when he came face to face with the Illusive Man, barely kept himself from taking a step back. The human's eerie cybernetic eyes tracked him from his side of the screen, "Ah, Vakarian, I see you've found one of my projects."

"This? Pathetic, Shepard would be appalled at how incompetently run this whole op is. Was. Sloppy." He bared his teeth at the image of the man, who looked back impassively.

"Baby steps, Vakarian. This is only the beginning and thanks to the input you've provided by attacking it so very masterfully, you can be assured that we will improve our methods." There was a faint smirk on that face now and Garrus really wanted to see it ripped off. It bothered the turian to no end that Cerberus would throw away its soldiers so callously just to get data on what the turians and more specifically, Garrus was doing.

Garrus smiled evilly into the screen, "Hmmm, I see that I'll have to improve my methods as well. Let's see who'll win, shall we?"

"It is a foregone conclusion who'll win, Garrus. I have resources and technology that far surpasses anything Shepard or you could ever bring to bear." The man took a deep drag off his cigar, then looked at him with what was clearly meant to be a friendly smile, but it was hollow, insincere, "We don't have to fight, Garrus. None of us need to fight with each other when there is so large a threat looming ever closer. I am learning means and ways to beat the Reapers when they come. Shepard must have had some idea all the good I could do for the galaxy when she gave me the Collector base."

Garrus crossed his arms and cocked his hip, glaring at the man, "See, that's where you're wrong. I thought long and hard about why Shepard didn't destroy the base when she had a chance and it wasn't because she wanted the technology used to stop the Reapers."

He leaned toward the screen, placing his hands on the console, "She did it to give_ you_ a second chance. For redemption."

He'd actually stunned the man, who always seemed so unshakable. The Illusive Man recovered quickly with a huff, "Fool idealists. There's no choice but to use it, mold it to our design, control it. It's the only way, the right way."

Garrus shook his head, "You are blind. I hope someday you see."

He cut off the transmission and turned to his LT, who looked at him with stunned amazement. "I guess we should have cut surveillance and comms first."

Garrus punched the man in the shoulder, companionably, "Baby steps indeed, ha. How are the other teams doing?"

"All targets neutralized. Four colonies reclaimed. No losses." That was incredible news, almost unbelievable if he hadn't seen for himself how very unprepared these facilities had been. He felt for the poor Cerberus soldiers here and elsewhere that had been sacrificed for spirits damned battlefield data. His LT was looking dourly at the empty screen and Garrus clapped him on the back.

"Spirits, Cicero, don't look so down. We live to fight another day, which is more than can be said for those poor deluded bastards downstairs." The rest of his team joined them as they walked down the stairs, "We'll take on anything the Illusive Man or the Reapers can throw at us and you know why? Because we're downright _deadly._"

They laughed around him and he bathed in the warmth of their companionship, even as his mind started revising strategies to come to include all these new players on his field. The next few days he worked his team over, making sure they stayed fluid, flexible, ready for anything and he racked his brain for ideas of what might be headed their way, from Cerberus anyway. If the Illusive Man stayed true to form, that meant that troop disposition would follow Shepard's model roughly, little bit of this, little bit of that, but judging from the amount of just basic troops they'd been training, each squad was going to be meat shield heavy.

His teams stayed to defend these colonies and he left, back to Palaven, where new recruits waited for him. He brought Cicero with him, though, as a protege. The turian had raw potential, and many ideas, good ones and Garrus meant for the man to replace him someday, be the first of many, Garrus hoped. He sent messages to the Heirarchy with suggestions on promotions from within his ranks.

* * *

It took another two months but Garrus had slowly phased himself out of the training. He still kept an eye on it to make sure it was going the right way, still participated in drills but he took secondary roles, and promoted men and women past him. Worthy soldiers, soldiers who _saw_ and would continue the work. He'd taken over a small squad of men and women, just eight soldiers for himself. As much as he'd wanted to send him on, Garrus kept Cicero as his LT. The turian seemed honored to be his second in command, not resentful for being passed up for promotions. Garrus felt a little guilty about it, but someone had to run ops with his team when he was stuck in meetings with the higher-ups. They monopolized much of his time now. There was rarely a day went by when he wasn't in conferences with the top brass.

He had a feeling deep in his gut that things were about to come to a head, something was coming and he did his best to convey that to the Heirarchy. It was at a meeting of the Planetary Defense Committee that a thought occurred to him that made him bark a laugh, drawing every eye to him. He waved an apology to the General who was currently speaking and schooled his features to show only attentiveness, but inside he was chuckling. As he stood to take the podium, he looked at all these esteemed high ranking turians hanging on his every word. These men, who for all their seriousness and experience, had decided to listen to him, of all people. Not that they shouldn't, he knew what they faced. It just seemed suddenly hilarious that he'd never actually received a commission. He had no rank.

He coughed to cover his lapse and gestured to the holographic map before them, "I believe it'll be soon. The batarians are reporting massive attacks on the rim, entire clusters have gone silent. I propose we send heavy reinforcements here, here, and here."

He pointed to the clusters whose relays ran straight to Palaven, "With secondary reinforcement here and here. Put a token force on every habitable world past that, with traps and ordinance."

The generals murmured disagreement, one stood, Garrus thought his name might be Paulus, "You propose we don't defend our colonies at all?"

He dropped an icy gaze on the man, "The people_ are_ the colony. Evacuate them, they can always move back. We have to make the Reapers think that it's worth committing forces to subjugate those worlds, which is why we're going to place token forces there. Think of it as an early warning system. The more time and resources they spend chasing down small platoons on those worlds, the fewer will head directly here."

He swept his hand over the map, "They will come like devouring insects, taking everything in their path. Going toe to toe with them will only end in our destruction. So we must be clever and quick. I'm hesitant to go so far as to say lay planetkillers on some of those worlds, but it may be an option worth looking into. My companies are best suited to this guerrilla warfare, but I won't drop them on those planets without hope of getting off, they'll need a shuttle apiece with small fueling depots if they need to run. This isn't about sacrificing people, gentlemen, it's about sacrificing territory and I can live with that, can you?"

"You make it sound almost hopeless. That we can't stop them from reaching Palaven."

"It's been five months since I started this endeavor, and it hasn't been for nothing. We will slow them down, but without the combined forces of the galaxy, we cannot hope to succeed against the Reapers. Tell me, have you had any luck negotiating a joint military effort with the other races? I know you've been trying." The uncomfortable silence was his answer, "Palaven, as much as I love this world, the world that gave birth to our people, it's just territory. The turian people are Palaven, the whole of it, the very soul of it and we can always move back. So let's get off our asses, gentlemen and get it squared away. Plan for evacuation, get every grounded ship recommissioned and spaceworthy. The fleet can guard their retreat. And my boys will have your back."

"But where would we go? Is there no hope at all?" They clamored around him and he held his hand up. The Primarch stood and Garrus gave him the floor, standing back so the turian could stand at the podium. He took a place at the Primarch's right hand, symbolically lending him strength with his conviction.

Primarch Fedorian looked over the assemblage, "The other races will come to know our need and their own. Have faith that they will join us when the time is right. Just hope."

Quietly, Garrus said, "It is enough."

* * *

_He dreamt of her. She was fighting, how he loved to watch her fight. There were bodies all around her and though he couldn't hear it, she was laughing. He saw it in the set of her shoulders, how they shook with mirth. Her limbs glowed with sweat as she swept her shotgun forward and back, taking out her adversaries with precise surgical blasts. He realized with a shock that she wasn't wearing armor, just a sort of loose white tunic that draped to mid thigh. Blood streaked her body from head to toe, but none of it was hers. Her omniblade glowed white hot as she speared the last standing foe and she threw her head back and screamed mute joy into the sky._

_And suddenly, he was looking down at her sleeping form. She tossed fitfully and he sat next to her. This was the most realized dream he'd ever dreamed of her. He could almost feel the bed weigh down with his mass, could feel the texture of the fabric which wrapped her body. Garrus looked over and saw a spray of flowers in a vase next to her bed. Her thrashing became more and more violent and he reached out a hand and soothed her brow and she stilled instantly. Her sweat beaded on his palm, and he marveled at the way it clung to him realistically. He ran his talons through her hair, short like the last time he'd seen her and felt its silken softness like a caress on his callouses. He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, 'Jane...'_

_'Garrus.' Her eyes opened, but she didn't see him. Reached for him, but he receded from her. A rumbling blast of sound shook the air around him, something huge and terrible was turning its regard upon him. It was pulling them apart. He fought to go to her, but to no avail. With an almost audible snap, he dropped into his sleeping body._

And woke, his heart pounding in his chest. Kasumi sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at him curiously, "Morning."

Garrus fought to control his breathing, fear gripping him stubbornly. He turned to her and barely managed with a gasp, "I need you to do something for me."

His serious tone instantly sobered the normally flighty thief, "What do you need me to do?"

"Pass the word to the Citadel and Liara, it's going to be today, or tomorrow. Make sure the Alliance knows." He threw on his shirt, yanking his pants up over his hips, ignoring Kasumi's whistle of appreciation, "The hell are you still doing here?! Go! Go!"

Kasumi ran out the door and he yelled out to her, "Docking bay 5!"

He sent off as many messages as he could while he strapped on his armor. Solana burst in on him, "Is it time?"

"Almost. A day, maybe today. Scramble the defense network." He grabbed his guns and his ammo and ran for the spare car, then cursed and ran back into the house, snagging his carryall and running back, passing Solana, who was pulling out of the garage with Kasumi in the passenger seat. "Sol, you and dad get to a shelter when you can. And when the ships start leaving, you better make sure you and dad are on one of them."

She tossed him a salute and he leapt into the other car, pulling away from the house rapidly. He watched it grow smaller in the distance, wondering if he'd ever see it again, but shook his head, his family was what mattered, not a building made of stone and wood. And Solana would watch over his father, she'd been a capable pupil when her platoon had come under his tutelage, she wouldn't let him down, they would be safe.

The shuttle became packed with soldiers quickly, most would be deposited on Menae, some would head out farther, to defend the colonies. Garrus got into his seat just as the shuttle took off, nodding to the soldiers who saluted him, their faces full of respect. He resisted the urge to duck his head. Across from him, a turian in red armor with white stripes on his face nodded, "Vakarian."

"General Victus. Fancy meeting you here." Garrus saluted the general, who waved it off.

"I'm told you're the one who roused us all out of bed at the crack of dawn. I'd be tempted to tell you off right now if I hadn't already heard that the outposts at the rim had gone dark." The general made an amused rumble in his throat and Garrus smiled. "I'm told we're heading to your staging area."

"It'll be yours once we land. My men and I are at your disposal. Fourth stage defense will swing into action at the first sign of Reapers in our system." Garrus felt an anticipation that made his palms sweat. It was time to see if all his planning had been for naught. He had high hopes that the full invasion could be delayed indefinitely, that they could hold Palaven long enough to evacuate much of the populace, the fleets could hold off a few dozen Reapers he was sure.

"Men, I want everyone mustered as soon as we land." Victus opened his comm channel so that every shuttle could hear him, "All units assemble at staging area alpha. Spirits keep you all."

The shuttle landed and Garrus hopped out, running to the staging area, spotting his troupe ahead of him. He embraced his LT, who pounded him on the back, "Cicero! Didn't miss the party, after all. Time to muster. Let's go pretend to be good soldiers."

He led his troops to their assigned place, standing at attention as the army fell in around him. The AA guns that dotted the moonscape around them roamed the sky, looking for targets. General Victus stood on a dais before them, with a map outlining where their best defenses should be. Garrus saw with relief that the general's strategies were sound and surprisingly creative, so he was content to watch the man as he spoke. He was pacing back and forth like he was just as eager as they to get into the fray, which he might be. Garrus had heard that the man was a force to be reckoned with on the field, favoring the assault rifle. His men loved him, as was evident in their expressions. And Garrus was startled to see a certain paternal fondness wash over the general's features as he gazed back.

When the general dismissed them, they scrambled for their assigned posts. Garrus' team was on sentry duty. They would go from post to post and make sure things were going smoothly. They were an auxiliary special force, padding where needed. And his little squad weren't the only 'specials' out here. Every outfit had at least one squad of Vagabonds with them, rotating in shifts. This was integral to his strategy, communication could not be allowed to break down between posts.

* * *

Garrus remembered the first time he spotted a marauder he'd almost vomited on the soldier next to him. A turian silhouette remade into a machine, a gross imitation of life. The nausea was quickly replaced with rage, wrathful and consuming. Every time he saw one, he made it his priority to kill it. Had to be a mercy to put the poor soul down. He passed the word to his men that while the main forces could focus on husks and cannibals, his people shot marauders. Shot them dead. He knew now the horror humans must have felt on first seeing husks.

A soldier was yelling something at him from his right and he shook the ringing of mortar blasts from his head and shouted, "What?!"

"Earth's just been hit! It's gone dark!" The turian turned away from Garrus and he was glad, for his bones suddenly felt like jelly. He slumped against the wall of the trench they'd dug for this post and made a quiet whimper no one could hear over the tumult. A medic patted his chest to see if he was okay and Garrus waved her off.

Surely, not. Shepard must have gotten out, where were their fleets, they must have had some kind of evac plan. Garrus knew there was a good chance that there was no evac plan. As compelling as Shepard had always been, she'd never had much luck convincing the people in charge that there was a threat heading their way. Her own government didn't believe her half the time, he had to hope that the faith he'd seen in Admiral Hackett's and Anderson's eyes remained strong and true. He rubbed his wristlet, pulling it out of his glove so he could see it, trying to calm the storm of anguish that washed over him. She was okay, she had to be okay.

Cicero patted his shoulder and looked away from Garrus' moment of weakness, for which he was grateful. Garrus fought the sudden urge to steal a shuttle and fly out to that blue planet where Shepard was. He sighed and looked up at Palaven, with that angry red fire dancing across it's surface. If Earth looked anything like Palaven, spirits have mercy on them all. Garrus pulled the wristlet to his face and breathed deep, trying to catch the tiniest hint of her scent on it, but it had long faded. He pulled himself together and popped a fresh heatsink into his rifle. He would do the job in front of him until he could do no more. He left the wristlet out to gleam on his wrist, its fire pushing him harder, making him angry and vengeful.

And if Shepard hadn't made it out okay, well, when this was over, he was going to visit every bureaucrat and politician on Earth and teach them what folly they'd committed in not keeping her safe. If there were any left anyway.

Three days later and the fighting was unrelenting. The fleets were holding, the AA guns drew the attention of many Reapers before they could land on Palaven, but not a single one had been destroyed, only fought to a standstill. Innumerable Reaper minions lay rotting on Menae's soil, but there seemed no end to them. Garrus' strategy was working out in the colonies, they still received fairly regular reports on Reaper movements. Only a couple dozen Reapers had made it to Palaven, but that dozen had killed scores of their troops and razed cities and they were fast taxing the defenders' resources. Thousands of turians were evacuated daily, sent to satellite colonies or the Citadel or just packed onto those ships up there.

There was a short break in the waves of enemies assaulting this post and Garrus lit a cigarette with a sigh. A shadow passed over him and he looked up as Victus plopped down next to him. Garrus took a deep drag and coughed, spitting off to one side. The general watched him curiously as he smoked. Finally, Victus spoke up, "Vakarian, it seems I owe you an apology."

"For what, sir?" Garrus looked at the man, his face closed and without expression. He watched Victus' eyes focus sharply on his wrist and suppressed the urge to hide that cord of red hair. He didn't give a damn any more. It was out and it was staying out until he saw her again.

"I was a very vocal...opponent to your plan, even called in a few favors to get an oversight committee involved." The general couldn't seem to pull his gaze away from Garrus' wrist and unable to help himself, Garrus watched the turian's eyes follow it as he brought his cigarette up to his mouth with amusement, the general continued, "I apologize, you were right. And if not for you, we would have been obliterated at the outset. Those things-"

He gestured vaguely towards the burning planet above them, "-they are unlike anything I've ever fought before. They don't stop, they don't rest. The last count from the outposts had the Reapers numbering in the hundreds, there are only two dozen here. Imagine if they had all come."

Garrus studied the older turian, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I...appreciate you telling me this, general. For morale's sake, I wouldn't mention the exact numbers to anyone else though. Might make this seem like a lost cause."

That got a laugh from Victus, who chuffed into the morning air and leaned over his maps, trying to find more options. Garrus knew how he felt, but he'd already worked the math in his head. Without help, they had less than four weeks, with help, well that was a different story. His Vagabonds could only do so much out there, he'd already had them drop back once, en masse, to a closer ring of planets.

One of his Vagabonds ran up to the command pod, panting, whipping off a salute. Garrus recognized the turian as one from a unit patrolling to the west. Victus waved for the man to spit it out, "General Victus, there's a flank breaking out east and the whole comm relay is down. General Corinthus is asking for assistance."

"I'll handle the flank, if Vakarian here will-."

The general looked at Garrus, who nodded, "Comm relay. I'm on it. Try not to have too much fun out here without us, sir."

"You have a twisted sense of what's fun, soldier." Victus laughed.

Garrus waved back over his shoulder, "Yeah, maybe, but at least I know how to have fun stylishly."

His team ran over the rocky ground, eating the distance to Corinthus' camp to the west. It was quite far and they ran into heavy resistance. It was close to late afternoon by the time they carved a path through the Reaper forces. Within sight of the base now, his comms kicked in, sputtering and coughing. Voices chattered on the open frequency and Garrus was wondering who the hell would be breaking radio silence out here when his heart skipped a beat. That voice, distinct, resonated across his nerves, he signaled his team to take cover while he listened closely, "...is now operational."

Corinthus' voice cut in and out as he replied, "Much...-iated, commander...I'll...-tact Pala-...and."

Leave it to Shepard to show up and start fixing things. He grinned madly, heart hammering in his chest. Her response was garbled and he let out a shout, which drew his team's attention, "Make a hole. We're going in there now."

Ferociously, they hacked through the horde of husks clamoring at the post's walls. It took a bit of time, but soon all of his people were through. He left them to reprovision as he sought out Corinthus. He saw her first, before she saw him. Her back was straight and true, shoulders set stubbornly, looking almost tiny in the heavy armor she was wearing, her red hair flying around her face like fire. As he got closer, he heard Corinthus speaking, "...right now, the Heirarchy's in chaos-so many dead or MIA."

Shepard leaned toward the general, her lips set in a grim line, "I need someone, I don't care who, as long as they can get us the turian resources we need."

Garrus swallowed the lump in his throat, that was his Shepard, kicking their asses in line. His knees felt weak at being this close to her again. He took a deep breath and walked up the short ramp that led to the circle of her regard, he spoke making his voice strong despite the sudden dryness in his mouth, "I'm on it, Shepard. We'll find you the Primarch."

Her face was still, but her eyes burned with joy at the sight of him, and it warmed him all the way down into his feet. It had been all worth it, every second of waiting, just to see her look at him like that. He laughed in his mind at the thought of telling her everything that happened since they'd parted six months ago and from the twitch in her lips, she had things to tell him, too.


End file.
